


When It's Burning Hot on Summer Days

by stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Parker, Clothed Sex, Collars, Coming In Pants, Daddy Kink, Light BDSM, Lingerie, M/M, Peter is of an ambiguous age, Spanking, Spooning, Sugar Daddy, Tony Stark is a good daddy, Top Tony Stark, gratuitous use of pet names, honestly this is sugar sweet don't let the tags fool you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 02:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/stfustucky
Summary: Basically, Peter sets up a lemonade stand to make money to buy something special for Tony for their anniversary. Daddy is extremely impressed. And by impressed, I mean aroused.Starker Bingo 2019 fill: DADDYKINKDarker Starker Summer Swap Prompt: LEMONADE





	When It's Burning Hot on Summer Days

**Author's Note:**

> "Is Rachel about to start posting a shit ton of Starker thanks to this bingo challenge?" you may find yourself asking. Yes, yes she is. Don't like it, don't read it :)
> 
> That being said, enjoy my starker filth!

Peter had everything he needed to make the mission successful.

He had the right materials, the right location, and of course the right suit. He was wearing what he privately called his “fancy schmancy spidey suit,” which was really not that different from any of the others Tony had built him, except that it looked _extra_ badass. The timing was perfect, the weather conditions were ideal, and Peter was ready to knock this one out of the park.

A shadow fell across Peter’s lemonade stand.

He looked up, ready to greet a new customer, and instead found Tony staring down at him with one eyebrow deliberately arched over top of the funky geometric frame of his sunglasses. Those deep brown eyes scanned the little booth Peter had set up on the sidewalk across from Avengers Tower like he was searching for an explanation. “Hey there, Spidey.”

“Mr. Stark, hey,” Peter grinned. “Want a cup of lemonade?”

“What exactly is going on here?” Tony asked slowly. He hadn’t been made privy to Peter’s plan beforehand, and his confusion was evident now. “Did you seriously set up a lemonade stand across the street from my tower?”

“Uh, yes sir.”

“Why?”

“It’s a good location for it. There’s lots of foot traffic, spacious sidewalks--”

“Pe-- _Spider-Man,”_ Tony caught himself at the last second, glancing around surreptitiously. There were several people around with their phones out snapping pics of Iron Man and Spider-Man chit-chatting over some lemonade, but none were close enough to have heard his almost-slip. Tony blew them a kiss and continued his thought. “I meant why did you set up a lemonade stand in the first place?”

“To make money,” Peter replied brightly.

A look of such complete upper-class consternation came over Tony’s face that Peter had to laugh. “But if you need money, why didn’t you just ask for it?” he asked with an air of exasperation. “Or if there’s something you need, you could just cut out the middle man and have Jarvis get it for you. You don’t ever have to worry about fundraising for something you need, Spidey.”

He might have said Peter’s superhero name, but Peter heard the implied _baby boy_ underneath and it made him smile. “I know. You take excellent care of me, all the time.”

If there was one thing Peter’s boyfriend could be counted on for, it was the way his eyes always went briefly half-lidded with want every time Peter complimented his ability to care for him. The expression on his face now was borderline indecent. “It’s my pleasure,” Tony hummed. “Now come on, let's get this stuff packed up so you can come inside, and then you can detail to me all the ways in which I can make things good for you.”

If anyone had been listening, they almost definitely would have heard only the offer for Iron Man to provide needed supplies for Spider-Man, but Peter understood the subtext of that offer and couldn't suppress a little shiver. He tried to resist his natural instinct to always do whatever Tony asked of him.

“No.”

It would almost have been comical, the double take Tony did, if it hadn’t been for the look of genuine surprise on his face. That might have been the first time he'd ever heard that word coming from Peter's mouth, at least directed towards him. He had heard plenty of _please, more,_ and _yes_ out of the boy, but very little in the way of ‘no.’ “I'm sorry, what did you say?”

Peter shivered again, because he knew that look. That was a look that meant Peter was going to find it difficult to walk without a limp for a few days if he didn't rethink his current course of action. “I don’t want you to give me your money this time. I want to make the money myself,” he hurried to explain.

This was a conversation to be handled delicately. On the one hand, it was borderline blasphemous to attempt to pay for something in the company of his billionaire boyfriend. On the other hand, however, Tony did love giving him exactly what he wanted. Peter cleared his throat and tried again. “It's important to me that I make this little bit of money myself. It's not like I'll be out here all summer, just until the end of the day.”

That earned him a long moment of searching before Tony responded. “Business is booming, then?” he asked, as if he hadn't seen the line of people in front of Peter’s little stand when he’d first come out of the tower.

“Oh, totally, Mr. Stark,” Peter answered with pride. “People love that I'm in uniform, so they're not just buying lemonade, they're buying lemonade from _Spider-Man._ And I autographed a bunch of these reusable cups from the dollar store as a bonus, So I'm selling them for five bucks each. I'm pretty sure I'm going to meet my goal before I can even use up all this lemonade.”

Tony picked up one of the cups to examine it, and Peter wondered if he was noticing the way that Peter had autographed right over the little chibi iron man on The Avengers-themed cup. Judging by his little smirk, the gesture had not gone unnoticed. “I suppose that I'm not allowed to offer to buy all the rest of your product at twice the price and lure you back inside?”

"Nope," Peter said lightly, "but you can consider me tempted if it makes you feel better.”

The conversation was getting perilously charged for a public sidewalk. Most of the crowd had backed away when Tony approached, having been willing to get in the space of a friendly neighborhood superhero but not a full blown Avenger. It looked like their conversation should be theirs alone, but if there was one thing that Peter had learned from living in a skyscraper full of super soldiers, assassins, and incredibly well trained spies, it was to never be too confident about being out of someone's earshot.

“Fine then,” Tony finally assented with a sigh, pulling out his wallet to toss a bill on the table. “I’ll have one lemonade, please. _Not_ because I’m trying to undermine your independence, but because I’m a good and supportive… mentor.” _Read: Daddy._

“Sure thing, coming right up,” Peter said cheerfully, filling one of the novelty cups with lemonade and screwing on the lid before handing it to Tony. He watched as Tony took a long drag of it. “What do you think? Any good?”

Tony dragged his tongue across his lips as if he couldn’t bear to miss savoring even a single drop of the taste. He’d made that same gesture before when lapping up something else of Peter’s, but the last time it hadn’t been lemonade. Peter felt his heart skip a few beats as Tony hummed contentedly. “Nice and sweet, just like I like it,” he said quietly.

_Keep it together, Parker, you’re on a public sidewalk._

“You’re welcome to have a taste anytime,” Peter couldn’t help saying.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Tony grinned back, taking another sip as he started to back away towards the tower once more. “Keep up the good work, kiddo.”

It wasn’t until Tony was out of sight and the line in front of Peter’s stand had formed itself once more that he noticed the bill Tony had thrown on the table had the solemn face of Benjamin Franklin on it. “Stupid rich boyfriend,” Peter muttered with a smile, then started filling cups.

………………… 

Tony probably asked Peter about his super secret lemonade stand mission at least fifty times over the course of the next three days, to no avail. For someone who had accidentally revealed his secret identity to half a dozen people, the kid sure could be tight-lipped when he wanted to be. It was disorienting. Normally when Tony told Peter to open his mouth, those perfect little lips fell open at once.

He knew something was coming, though. He could tell by the excited twinkle in his baby boy’s eye, by the almost-fiendish upturn at the corner of his mouth. Oh yes, Peter was up to something, and Tony was caught between wanting to know what it was and simply savoring the anticipation.

It all came to a head Thursday night, when Tony got home from his SI board meeting to find Peter curled up on the couch in his fluffy white bathrobe with the collar turned up around his ears, looking small and nervous as he chewed on his lip. Tony felt his stomach drop. “Peter? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter said at once, but his little smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I did something and now I feel kind of stupid.”

“Okay,” Tony carefully replied, shrugging out of his suit jacket to come perch on the coffee table before Peter. He let his hand come to rest on the lump of blankets where he approximated Peter’s ankle might be. “Alright, baby, let’s talk about it and we’ll figure it out. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it for you.”

That just made Peter flush. “Not like that, I mean-- I tried to do something for you, and I’m afraid you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Never.” Tony’s answer was immediate and unshakeable. “I could never think anything my brilliant boy does is stupid. But if you changed your mind and you don’t want to show me anymore, you don’t have to. Whatever you want, darling.”

“I want you to kiss me,” Peter said shyly, and Tony smiled warmly at the sound. It was going to be one of _those_ nights, then. Those nights were his favorite.

“How can I say no to that?” Tony hummed, leaning across the space between them to kiss Peter easily. His hand came up to cup Peter’s cheek, sliding down to take gentle hold of his throat the way he knew the boy adored, especially when he was feeling soft and sweet like he was tonight. He shifted his grip ever so slowly, not wanting to startle Peter, but it was him who wound up freezing in surprise when his fingertips brushed over the unmistakable texture of leather, wrapped around Peter’s throat beneath the folds of the robe.

“Happy anniversary, Daddy,” Peter whispered.

“It’s not our anniversary,” Tony said numbly, even as he pulled the robe aside to investigate what he’d discovered. It was a collar, simple black leather, with a plain metal ring at the front. Tony felt lightheaded imagining clipping a leash to it, pulling Peter closer by the throat, wrapping the lead around his hand to pull it tighter and seeing Peter arch his back to accommodate the tug…

But not tonight. Tonight the ring was occupied by a tiny, delicate charm shaped like a heart, shining rose gold with the words _yes, sir_ engraved on the surface.

“March 16th,” Tony said quietly, a little dizzy in the wake of every drop of blood in his body suddenly rushing south. “We first decided to be exclusive on March 16th. It’s July now, this is… sweetheart, this is just a miraculous Thursday.”

“Yeah, but today was--” Peter cut off with a flush. “It was the first time we-- the first time I ever--”

“The first time I ever made love to you?” The words would have sounded cheesy if Peter wasn’t so pliant and trusting before him, like the word _fuck_ would have snapped him in two. Making love had been exactly the word for what they’d done that first night anyways, Peter falling apart with Tony inside him, and Tony savoring every second. At Peter’s nod now, Tony smiled and captured Peter’s hand so he could kiss his knuckles tenderly. “How could I forget? Thank you for the collar, baby, I love it.”

Peter got even pinker around the ears and shook his head just a little. “That’s not all of it,” he whispered.

He took Tony’s hand where it was still holding his own and led Tony’s palm into the folds of the bathrobe to slide down Peter’s side. Peter was wearing a shirt, something silky and light. Where that texture ended, it gave way to soft lace on Peter’s hip. Tony sucked in a surprised breath, but Peter wasn’t done. He kept leading Tony’s hand down, across the smooth, warm skin of Peter’s thigh, then on to more lace and slippery, delicate fabric--

“Peter,” Tony said, very calmly, voice low and harboring no argument, “stand up and drop the robe, baby.”

Tony’s mouth went dry as Peter obeyed and rose, blankets and plush cotton sliding away to reveal his body in all of its glory. He was wearing a sheer black button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, buttons undone to show off his muscled chest and stomach even if Peter was doing his best to hide behind self-consciously crossed arms. He was wearing delicate black lace panties, finely spun, stretched in the front where Peter’s hardening cock was straining at the dainty fabric. There were stockings too, black nylon, accenting every lithe muscle in Peter’s powerful legs, held in place around his thighs by a band of matching lace.

All that, _and_ the goddamned collar.

“Sweetheart, is this all for me?” Tony asked reverently, though he knew the answer. He didn’t wait for Peter to confirm, just stood so that he could draw Peter closer by his lace-clad hips. “What did I do to deserve you, baby boy? Hmm? You treat Daddy so well.”

He could see Peter melt at the praise, his arms uncrossing to clutch at Tony’s biceps. “I want--” Peter started, than licked his lips and tried again. “Daddy, may I please have your cock?”

“Good boy,” Tony purred, burying his face into Peter’s neck to nip his approval at the soft skin there, his lips brushing against leather. “Such good manners, and you know I love it when you use your words to ask for what you want. Of course you can, sweet thing. Up.”

At the command, Peter shifted his grip to Tony’s shoulders and jumped a little to wrap his legs around Tony’s hips. If it were anyone else Tony might have tipped over or pulled a muscle, but Peter was more than capable of using his strength to hold onto Tony in a way that kept him in perfect balance. Tony held onto the tops of his thighs, just below the curve of his ass, enjoying the feeling of the soft scalloped edge of lace beneath his fingertips.

Peter jostled a little bit as Tony carried him to the bedroom, and Tony’s touch came across a small slippery wet spot in the fabric, right over Peter’s hole. He quirked an eyebrow. “Peter Benjamin Parker,” he said, trying for stern but landing somewhere between amused and delighted. “Did you get started without me?”

“You were late,” Peter mumbled, hiding his face in the curve of Tony’s neck. “I was impatient.”

“Haven’t we talked about you touching yourself without permission?”

“But I wasn’t--”

“Peter.”

Tony deposited Peter on the end of the bed, standing between the boy’s spread legs and looking down at him. Peter looked debauched already, and Tony had barely so much as kissed him. His eyes were devastatingly innocent as he looked up at Tony through his lashes and said, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Forgiven,” Tony said at once. Maybe another night he would have made Peter beg for it, put him on his knees and make him show Tony how eager he was to be good. Or maybe put Peter over _Tony’s_ knee and make his atonement with a few dozen firm swats.

Not now, though, not tonight. Tony was already aching just from the sight of Peter. All it would take would be a few minutes of Peter’s fluttering throat and Tony would be toast. That would just be cruel, given that Peter had asked so very nicely for more. No, tonight Tony was half tempted to give Peter a reward for breaking the rules, if only because his act of disobedience was going to get Tony inside of him faster.

Tony ran the back of his knuckles across the flush on Peter’s cheekbones, around the sharp angle of his jaw, thumbing at those soft pink lips before he dropped his hand to inspect Peter’s collar once more. _Yes, sir._

“You knew exactly what this would do to me, didn’t you?” Tony asked quietly, palming his hard length through his suit pants. “You cooked up this whole clever scheme. Making your own money so I wouldn’t know what you were buying. Picking out this whole outfit calculated to drive me wild. You're such a clever thing, aren't you?"

Peter blushed. "Thank you, Daddy."

"So what was your plan for tonight, after I saw you sitting there looking so pretty? Come on, I know you imagined it." Peter's averted gaze and nervously bitten lower lip told Tony that he'd hit the mark. "Tell me, sweetheart, what exactly do you want?"

"I don't want to take it off," Peter said under his breath, and Tony had to tap him under the chin to remind him to lift his head and speak clearly. He raised Peter better than to mumble his worlds like that. "The-- the outfit. I want to leave it on while you..."

"While I...?" And okay, maybe Tony was just a tiny bit cruel, making Peter use his words so much when he was feeling so shy. He just couldn't get enough of hearing such debauched words out of such an angelic mouth. Peter's embarrassed dirty talk had enough pure sexual energy to keep Tony hard from here to the grave if he chose to dwell on it.

"While you fill me up," Peter finished. "Want you to push my pretty panties to the side and slide right into me. Please, will you?"

Tony pretended to consider for a moment, tangling his fingers in Peter's short curls and gently moving his head from side to side just to savor the way that Peter went soft as could be and let Tony move him at will. He was always so perfectly pliant for Tony. "And what if I didn't want to do that? What if I wanted to rip all that pretty lace off of you and come down your throat?"

There must have been at least some of Peter's usual sass still buried beneath that beautiful submission, because his eyes twinkled with victory when he fluttered his lashes. "I can be patient until next time, then. You'll buy me more, won't you, Daddy?" He opened his mouth, tongue extended just a bit, an offering for Tony to take what he wanted that he knew damn well Tony was going to refuse.

It always went this way in the end. Tony Stark may have been one of the most powerful men in the world, but he was helpless to deny Peter Parker a goddamn thing.

"Up the bed, baby boy, quick," Tony said, palming himself once more as he toed out of his shoes. He was in too much of a hurry to get undressed, too eager to have his cock inside of Peter's perfectly warm, wet, tight little body. He unfastened his pants as he climbed onto the bed and pushed them and his boxers down around his thighs. That would have to be enough. "On your side, princess," he instructed, smiling at the way Peter rolled to comply at once. "There you go. Now, let's see how good a job you did breaking my rules."

He lay down behind Peter, spooning him, propped up on his elbow so that he could press kisses into Peter's shoulder. He tugged at the panties where they were warmest and wettest, made messy by the lube leaking from Peter's hole, and pulled them to the side so he could slip two fingers in.

Peter gasped, and Tony tsked disapprovingly. If Peter were properly prepped, he'd be able to take three. The fact that he was tight around Tony's two means that _someone_ did a subpar job.

"Now sweetheart, this is why we have rules. What if I hadn't checked first, love? I could have hurt you. You're not supposed to touch because only Daddy knows how to do it right. I know how to take good care of you. Next time I find out you tried to prep yourself without supervision, I'm going to take you at your word and fuck you whether you're ready or not. Understand?"

It was all just talk and Peter knew it, knew that Tony would never risk hurting him that way, but he gasped and nodded and rocked back on Tony's fingers anyways. "Yes, sir."

The words reminded Tony of the flowing script at Peter's throat, and he pressed a third finger into Peter eagerly. The boy squirmed for a minute, uncomfortable with the new pressure, then went lax as he clearly made a conscious effort to relax. "Good boy," Tony hummed, "there we go. Let me in, baby. You haven't even touched me and I'm already so hard just from watching you. You're a menace, you know that? You're going to ruin me."

"Sorry, Daddy," Peter whined as Tony took away his fingers. Tony replaced his digits with the head of his cock, and Peter didn't sound sorry at all as Tony rocked into him.

This was one of Peter's favorite positions, as Tony damn well knew, and before he was even fully inside of Peter the boy was trying to slip a hand into the front of his panties to touch. Tony wasn't about to let him get away with _that._ He drew back his hand and landed a hard smack to the outside of Peter's thigh without warning. "Be good," he said sternly, already rubbing a soothing palm over the rising red mark. Peter's hand jumped away from his cock and rested on his tummy as he whined. "I'll touch you if I decide you need to be touched, sweetheart."

He'd taken advantage of the momentary distraction of the impact to push all the way inside, his hips flush against Peter's ass. Peter was panting almost as hard as Tony was, so he didn't waste any more time before pulling out and starting a rhythm of firm, impactful thrusts. Peter's hips jerked forward every time Tony fucked into him, the sound of flesh hitting flesh matching the tempo of Peter's breathy little noises perfectly. It was music, and Tony closed his eyes for a moment and just let himself get lost in all the sensation that came with fucking Peter.

He could feel the way the zipper of his dress pants snagged slightly on the lace of Peter's panties, could sense the heat radiating off of Peter's body and feel the way that all of his muscles tensed and writhed as he let himself be used and tried to chase the pleasure. He could hear every little stutter of Peter's breath, and when he pressed his lips to Peter's jugular, he could feel the pounding of his blood beneath the skin.

Tony was so lost in his own experience that he might not have noticed what Peter was doing if he hadn't been accidentally nudged by Peter's elbow. He opened his eyes to see that Peter had his hand around his cock again, stroking it, the tip peeking out from beneath lace with a pearly string of precum dripping off of it.

This time Tony lifted Peter's top thigh to spread his legs first, so that when he brought his hand down in three rough smacks, it was to the sensitive skin of Peter's inner thigh. The boy howled and tried to instinctively shut his legs, but Tony held them open. "I said no. Put your hands above your head, now. Hold onto the headboard."

Peter tried to stutter an apology as he obeyed, but Tony shushed it. "I know, darling, it's hard to resist. I know how you feel. I want to touch you all the time, too. Do you know what you do to me?" Peter whimpered, at Tony's words or the way he growled them it was hard to say. "I have to work hard to control myself around you, to not just keep you in my bed all day. All I wanna do is keep my sweet boy right here, just like this, for me to fill up over and over again as many times as you'll let me. It's torture, letting you get up and put on clothes and walk away from me. It drives me insane, having to share you with the rest of the world."

Peter's feet were scrabbling for purchase on the sheets, trying to rock back into Tony's thrusts, trying to fuck forward into the ever-so-slight friction his panties afforded. Tony had to grip Peter's hip and hold him still so that his rhythm wouldn't be bothered by Peter's struggle. He was close, and Tony didn't need Peter to tell him that. "Daddy, please, I need--"

"I know what you need, baby, hush," Tony chided. He should have thought to take his tie off first, stuff it into Peter's mouth. The sweet thing had an oral fixation like you wouldn't believe. Anything regarding his mouth or his throat was like fireworks. 

Tony shifted a little so that he could hook his fingers into Peter's collar at the nape of his neck. "You have no idea what this does to me," he murmured, tugging on the leather a little until it was pulled tight against Peter's skin. It wasn't enough pressure to restrict his air --this wasn't the right angle for that to happen safely-- but it was enough to make Peter acutely aware of the collar's presence. "I want to take you out wearing it, let everyone know who you belong to. Of all the things I own, you're my favorite. My most prized possession. You know that, Peter?"

Peter didn't even answer. He was fully a wreck now, eyes jammed shut, face turned back towards Tony over his shoulder and mouth dropped open into a pained-looking o. "Please," he gasped as Tony twisted to nip at his lower lip. "Daddy, I need to come. I can't hold it anymore, you feel too good. Please."

"Of course you can, princess, go ahead and make a mess for me," Tony answered, readjusting Peter's panties so that his twitching cock was tucked back inside. He cupped the hard length through the fabric, his fingertips massaging the base in a way that made Peter keen. "Go on, ruin your panties for me. I wanna see you wreck them with your come, until they're no good anymore. That way I can take you shopping and buy you a whole drawer full of new ones. Would you like that, Peter? Want me to buy you all sorts of pretty things to wear just so that I have something to put you in when I ruin you over and over again?"

Peter pushed his hips back against Tony so hard as he came that Tony lost his leverage entirely, unable to do more than grind roughly into Peter's ass as he worked through his aftershocks. "Good boy," Tony gasped, kissing whatever part of Peter's face or neck or shoulder he could reach as Peter writhed. "Perfect, so sweet for me, giving me just what I wanted. Gonna roll you over now, baby, just--"

His words must have gotten through to Peter, because he started to turn onto his back in Tony's arms, eager to please even in his blissful haze. Tony caught his shoulder however, rolling him over onto his front, Tony's cock slipping free of Peter's body. Peter made no further move to assist, just let himself be manhandled however Tony wanted him. It only served to ratchet Tony that much closer to his own orgasm as he knelt beside Peter and stroked his cock just above the disarray of Peter's ass.

The panties were stretched and crumpled at the crotch, still shoved to the side so that Tony could see the sheen of lube on his skin and the oversensitive flutter of Peter's hole. There was a slight tear in the lace, probably from the friction of Tony's zipper sliding against it, the fabric beginning to split like it couldn't wait to be rent apart and lay Peter bare. Peter's skin was flushed pink, with the inside of one of his thighs still a heated shade of red from Tony's reprimand.

He looked positively wrecked, and when Tony started coming and added his own spurts of come to the scene, all he could think was that the destruction was _stunning._

It took a full minute after Tony's orgasm was complete for him to have enough breath accessible in his lungs to ask, "How you feeling, Petey?" as he ran a hand up and down the back of Peter's thigh. 

"M'good," Peter mumbled, not lifting his head from the cradle of his arms. "S'good. Thank you, Daddy."

"Anytime," Tony answered warmly, leaning down to kiss the crook of Peter's knee. "Stay right there, don't move, baby. I'll be right back."

Peter made a noise that could have either been assent or displeasure as Tony left the bed, but he didn't argue. Tony was back just moments later anyways, with the phone from his abandoned suit jacket. Peter looked back at Tony when he heard the little electronic shutter sound effect, catching Tony in the act of taking a picture of the mess of come and lube and frayed lace on Peter's ass. "Gonna frame that one for the mantle?"

Tony flicked Peter's thigh, not even hard enough to make him twitch. Apparently he'd fucked all the sweetness out of Peter and gotten his everyday sassy boy back. "Fat chance. Like I'd let anyone else see this masterpiece. This one's just for me, for the next time I have to go away and start missing you."

"You're filthy," Peter accused, but his grin cut the harshness of his words. "You're a sex fiend. Total degenerate."

"I've been called worse," Tony assented. "And I don't mind. As long you still call me yours."

"Yes, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> stfustucky | tumblr


End file.
